The Game
by charlieal12
Summary: December 21st, 2012. It's a date that would mark the end to one of the most terrifying massacres in recorded history. A terrorist group would force children to do the unthinkable, disgusting even the most loyal members of Al Qaeda. The Mayans predicted it, and then it happened...
1. Prelude

**Hey guys! This is just so you could get to know my writing style ( And to get more submissions). To those who have submitted, THANK YOU! You guys are amazing! Anyways, here it is. **

**WARNING: this chapter involves dark subject matter.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games or CNN ( I wish I did -_-).**

**Mohammed Abdoo : Leader of The Capitol**

I used to have it all, you name it. Money? Enough to burn for heat. Love? While it _was_ an arranged marriage, me and my wife where one of the few rare cases that actually fell in love. Family? 2 healthy children, and one more on the way. Yes, I had it all, that is until the Americans took it all from me.

March 26th, 2002. It's a day that runs through my head every day I live.

What happened? I had just come home from my mothers' new house, with the war in Iraq getting worse by the day, it was best my family stay close.

I came home and I saw it:

My wife, 4 months pregnant, beaten to a bloody pulp, and shot in the head. My beautiful 15-year-old daughter, raped and also shot. And worst of all, my son, only 9 years old, tied back and forced to watch, then shot.

All done by them, the pigs, the Americans.

They confused my address with that of my neighbors, but what they did was wrong either way.

I hated them since that day, loathed them when the rest of my family was killed in an air raid late at night.

I did the one thing any person in my shoes would have done, I joined Al Qaeda. I was with them for 7 damned years, planning attacks, thefts, and suicide bombings. Until eventually I was thrown out for being "too fantastical" in my thoughts. They found the thought of basing an attack on a book preposterous; so they stuck to the usual suicide bombings to give a message. The bombings only showed we could kill, nothing more. They didn't spread a message.

So for 3 years, I plotted. I founded the Capitol, in honor of Suzanne Collins' ( the only American I don't loathe) book, and recruited members.

We started out with a mere 5 people, all of us having lost our families in the war. But now, look at us, a full 2,548 people strong. The pesky Americans haven't even heard about us, since we haven't blown up any of their beloved Embassies.

And now, my plan is about to be put into action. We have been working on something that will begin our vengeance. Make the Americans pay for the crimes they have committed against us.

It's simple, really. For the past 3 years, 500 of us have been slowly moving to Florida, to cities close to our point of interest, Mapleton. We couldn't think of any better place. It was 500 miles away from the nearest Army base, meaning it would take longer for the government officials to arrive, it was practically unheard of, which will make it easier to get to ( traffic can get packed in Florida), it was close to one of CNN's larger news stations,making it easier access the press, and best of all: Leonard High school. It has the second biggest number of students in the state ( an astounding number of 6,127), and it is the fourth largest campus in the state ( 12th in the country), and if there was one thing we surely needed, it was a large school. In other words, it was perfect.

I assigned one of my best assistants, Hakim Aaquib, to be in charge of the first attack, or The Game, as we have all been calling it.

Why did I choose a high school? Simple, this is the future of America, and I want to show the world just how barbaric their people really are.

The Game is simple, tomorrow, the 500 who were sent to Florida will make the drive to Mapleton. They will then take over Leonard High School, set up cameras in the gymnasium, force the news to broadcast live feeds of the "reapings", or picking of the students for The Game .

The chosen students, or tributes as we call them, will then be prepped for the games, where they will be forced to run, climb, and learn basic weaponry skills. Finally, they will have to participate in a small interview in the auditorium. This will take a total of 5 days.

Then on day six, The Game will finally begin, where the Tributes will have to fight inside the school campus. We will wait until one Student is left alive and then the members will turn in all the non-reaped students ( they are kept in the Gymnasium. The only place off-limits to the students in The Game.) to the authorities, and then the members of the Capitol will pull out their Capsules ( a mix of deadly poisons) and kill themselves while they have the chance.

I smile to myself, this is going to be perfect. Those rats will learn just how vulnerable they really are. All that is left to do is wait. My best Colleagues, along with some guards, are living with me in my palace here in Iraq. Money, it's the only thing I have managed to keep. Then again, founding an oil company has its perks.

My assistants are in the room next to me, giving me the newest updates on The Game. I slip into my bed, hoping all will go well.

Tomorrow, the bastards will learn their lesson.

**What did you think? Let me know in the comment section. I'd like to know what I can improve on. Let me state this right now, I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING AGAINST MIDDLE EASTERN PEOPLE! In fact, some of best friends are from those countries ( that came out sounding wrong ) :( . I'm sorry for the shortness of this chapter, but it was just to give you guys a better understanding of the story. I promise the other chapters will be much longer. So yeah…*awkwardly walks away***


	2. The day before

**Hello! Just another chapter to get more submissions. ****I really need some guys, people! Please submit me one! ****Even if it's a bloodbath, just do that for me. You could even submit one of your tributes' friends * hint, hint*. So yeah, Enjoy! **

**Warning: the second POV has some extreme language.**

**Evan Gray**

**17**

**Junior**

" No! don't do it Jackson!" Isaac screams. He slams the kindle on the bed begins to cry.

" Oh, what happened now?" I whisper in his ear, wrapping my arms around him and giving him a kiss in the process.

" He killed himself, Jackson killed himself." He says, not accepting it and pressing his face against my chest. I hold him tightly, letting him empty his sorrows into my pajama shirt.

" Seriously? I kind of expected it, you know, it being a Yaoi and all…"

" Shut up! I wanted him to live, damn it!" he sighs, " Why do gay fics have to be so depressing?"

" Well first of all," I state matter-of-factly, " you're reading a yaoi on fictionpress, what do you expect?"

" Are you calling us recreational writers weird?" He asks angrily, completely forgetting the fact that his beloved story character just killed himself. I love to get under his skin.

" No, I'm just saying that most of you guys are usually: A. some lonely, shy, kid who gets their angers to the world out in writing. B. an overly creepy nerd who's most likely in drama club, C. A Goth/Emo kid who watches too much _Bleach. _Or D. a weird combination of all of them." I look at his reaction with a smug grin. He wrinkles his nose and looks at the ceiling, most likely trying to come up with a strong defense.

" What did you say that guys name was? Jackson? I'm surprised it isn't some Asian name like teriyaki or, wait, what's that Asian chicks name, Uendi?"

" Don't pick on Uendi! She's pretty cool, I talked with her one time."

" Really? When?"

" That one time you got food poisoning. I was all alone, so I just walked over and said 'hi'. I think I kind of creeped her out though. You know me and my randomness" He says with a smile, I grin and give him another kiss.

" Whatever, I'm getting sleepy, I have an Algebra 2 test tomorrow." I tell him.

" Why do you say Algebra 2? Everyone calls it Algebra, you know. And you say I'm a freak…" He says with a grin.

" Hey, if I'm so freakish, then why do you go out with me?" I retort.

" Why do you go out with me?" He says.

" Cause you're so damn sexy, and me loving you doesn't hurt either" He smiles at me.

" You and your cheesy quotes…" he yawns, " I think we should sleep now.".

" Did you already tell your parents you would be sleeping over?" His mom could be quite the drama queen when her son isn't home at the right hour.

"Yeah, I even brought my school stuff with me."

" Okay, then…" I squeeze him tight. I honestly meant the whole 'I love you' thing. Isaac was the one who helped me through those awful nights of confusion and self-hatred. He's my rock, and I don't know what I would do without him. Probably die like that one of those silly characters in the stories he so much likes to read.

I set my phone alarm for 6 AM, turn off the lights, and slip under the covers next to him.

" Goodnight" I say, wrapping my hands around him.

" Goodnight." he says back, giving grabbing a hold of my hand.

We fall asleep in each others arms, and oddly enough, I dream of roses.

**Georgia Halferty**

**17**

**Junior**

The man drags me by my hair and slams me out the back-door of the nightclub.

" Stay-out! You fuckin' whore!" He screams.

" Go screw yourself!" shout at him, my voice slurred from the whole bottle of whiskey I just drank. He had caught me offering the men in the club sex for the great price of $15 a pop. I actually did the deed with 3 before he got me.

I stumble through the back alley, barely managing to keep my stomach from spewing . I reach the main street and begin my walk/stumble home.

_Whore,_ that's what I've earned as my reputation. That's the reason I have no friends at school. I honestly could give a damn what people care, I excel at not giving a shit. My life has taught me that the only way to get what you want is to manipulate. Manipulation is a great thing, but like any great things, it's something you need to know how to use.

I have lots of great things: a new laptop, an iphone, an ipad, and the best clothes on the market. How did I get them? Sheer manipulation. How do I do it? Easy, screw a guy ,threaten to rat them out to the school, get what you want, rinse, repeat. I've done it so many times I have practically screwed all the upperclassmen ( Except the girls and the two gay dudes ).

I reach my house, and let out a groan when I see that the lights are on. It means that momma is awake. I'm not in the mood for making up lame excuses, Momma believes anything. The porch lights turn on and she comes out.

" Honey, where have you been! You don't know how worried I have-" She begins.

" Where the fuck do you think I've been?" I slur. She looks at me with pitiful eyes, motherly eyes, _disgusting_. I don't know what she's so sad about, she made me this way.

" Baby, what happened? What did you do to yourself?!" she says horrified, I sigh.

" Why do you ignore everything, Momma? Why do you ignore everything I do? Huh? Oh, I know, it's because you don't want to accept the fact that your _sweet, innocent _daughter is really a cock-sucking whore!" I scream. I'm not like this with my mom, but I've been having a horrible day. Even I'm surprised at my harsh words.

Mom looks at me in shock, then slaps me hard in the face. Not just in any place, but on my _left cheek._ Memories of the hot tub come smashing back into my head.

" Don't you _ever _say that!" She screams_, _slapping me again.

My face must have changed, because Momma's face goes from extreme anger, to extreme fear in a second.

I let out a scream and tackle her to the ground with an anger I didn't know I possessed.

" DON'T YOU EVER SLAP ME THERE AGAIN! YOU GOT IT YOU FUCKIN' BITCH! " I slap her hard.

" Please baby, stop it, let Mommy go…" She cries out.

"YOU SEE THIS?!" I point to myself, she nods in fear.

" YOU MADE THIS, AND I HATE YOU FOR THAT!" I slap her again, stand up, and run into my house. Completely ignoring the cries of my hysterical mother.

I kick open the bathroom door and vomit out the contents of my stomach. Then, I turn on the shower, making sure to make the water as cold as possible, and throw myself in, not making the effort to take off my skimpy outfit.

I let my emotions loose and cry for about 2 hours. I'm just a stuck-up, self obsessed bitch who will screw any guy on campus. It hurts to be called a slut every time I get to school, but you can't show the hurt. Or else they'll all tear you to shreds. That's why I'm going to clean myself up, go to sleep, and go back to being that bitchy girl everyone at school knows and hates. Momma's going to casually forget everything tomorrow and everything will be back to normal. Just another day as Georgia the school slut. But eventually, Georgia is going to graduate and move far, far away. Away from her old life, and she's going to meet the guy of her dreams and she's going to forget her old life. That's what's gonna happen, someday.

" _what did you do to yourself?" _I don't know momma, I don't know.

**Review! I love constructive criticism. I do a happy dance every time I get one. ****J**


	3. Getting Ready

**Hey! Here is the first official chapter! *Cue happy music***

**Charlotte "Charlie" Bren Maybright**

**14**

**Freshman**

" Charlie! Get up! Time for school, Freshman!"

I let out an audible groan and fling my pink teddy bear at my stupid brother.

" I set up the alarm, stupid." I say, reaching for my glasses.

"That's funny, then why isn't it ringing yet?" As if on cue, the alarm goes off right when he finishes his sentence. We stare at each other, then break into laughter. He whimpers away before I can tease him.

I get out of bed and head for the shower. Walking down the hall, I notice two of my little sisters groggily peeking out their bedroom door. Mckenzie and Marcey are twins. Most people think that they are no older 3, which gets on their nerves, but they are really 8. Unfortunately for them ( Not to mention me), they inherited the small stature from my mothers side of the family. Or as I like to call it, the Oompa-Loompa Complex.

" Girls, go back to sleep." I say gently.

Mckenzie, being the more obedient of the two , quickly makes her way back to bed. Marcey ,however, isn't so quick to comply.

" I'm not sleepy though," She says glumly, flashing her me her puppy dog eyes to match her tone.

" It's five in the morning, Marcie. You still have a another hour and a half. Trust me, when you get older you'll be wishing you had more sleeping time." I say with a smile.

She just gives me that sad stare.

" How about this, if you go to sleep now, I'll let you get up a half hour earlier." I bargain.

Her eyes light up.

"Really! Sure!" She practically runs back to her bed. I let out a laugh and continue my trek to the bathroom.

The bathroom is squeaky clean from the deep cleaning me and my mother gave it yesterday. It took 3 full hours for me to just get the tub and shower done; I let mom take care of the rest.

After a quick 8-minute shower, I head back to my room, the towel draped around my body. I peek into the twins' room and grin when I see the two are sleeping blissfully.

Quickly, I pick out a pair of jeans and an orange polo-shirt. My stupid school has a uniform, I curse at myself for not going to Mapleton High. Sure, it's smaller, but _it doesn't have a stupid dress code!_ Plus, maybe I would be happy if pink, my ultracantabulicious favorite color (_ randomness alert, Charlie),_ was one of allowed colors, but no, what do we have? Orange, black, blue, and white, Ugh!

I make do with wearing a pink bow, and nice pink necklace. Damn! That's right! I take off the necklace and put it back in my jewelry box, going for a cute pink heart zirconia ring my boyfriend gave me for my birthday. Sure it's fake, but it's the thought that counts (plus he's like 14, where would he get the money for a real ring?). Apparently you could use something as innocent as a necklace to strangle the life out of a person, especially in the ghetto town of Mapleton, I mean even the name sounds badass, right?

I step out of my room and head for the kitchen, where I find Tyler going through a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats like there's no tomorrow.

" Ready?" he says with a mouthful of cereal.

"Yea"

I grab two granola bars from the pantry and a water bottle. He puts the bowl in the sink and then tosses me my backpack. We precede to walking over to the garage, and into his beaten up 1996 Volvo.

We drive off to school, just like any normal day.

**Raven Forester**

**15**

**Freshman**

This week has sucked, big time. In only the past few days I have: 1. moved from Manhattan, to the quirky little town of Mapleton, 2. Broken up with my boyfriend of 3 FREAKING YEARS!, and 3. Moved to Florida of all places, I mean sure, the beach is like 15 minutes away from my house, but it's 82 degrees in November, not only that, but the humidity is suffocating!

Not to mention that I just finished typing the 9,000 word grand finale to my awesome Hunger Games SYOT, only to find that the asses from Critics United not only deleted my story, but also froze my account for 6 months! Oh yea, and did I mention that today is my first day of school?

I miserably trudge my way to school, sporting the AMAZING uniform. Orange and black. God, out of all the schools in the state, I happen to get into the one that has Halloween hues as their school colors. My luck.

I make my way through the school gates and gawk at the sight before me, not only is this school 5 times bigger than my New York school, but it is packed with students. With all the Orange in here, you'd think it was Halloween Town. I walk through the doors that say ADMINISTRATION.

I go up to the woman at the front desk. Her green eyes stare at me through her black glasses, she holds her hand out to tell me to wait. She blabs into the phone, and I endure 6 full minutes of her incessant mousy voice before going up to her.

" Excuse me," I say in my sweetest voice possible, " I'm sorry, but I'm new here and the guidance counselor told me to come here to get my sched-"

" I'm on the _phone!_" She barks.

" I'm so-"

" Don't you talk back to me! Stay there and be quiet!" She shouts.

_Bitch._

" Carol! Don't speak like that to a student!" I turn around and see the guidance counselor who my mom gave my school paperwork to. Her blond hair is tied up into a bun, and her blue eyes show outrage at "Carol's" outbreak. Carol stares down in shame and can't help but crack a smile.

" Oh, you're the new girl right?" I nod my head, surprised that she remembered me. Judging by the size of this school, she should get like 5 new kids a day.

"I have you're schedule in my office, come with me." She leads me down a huge hall.

" How many guidance counselors are there?" I ask, looking at the endless amount of offices.

" 23, not including me. There are also 12 assistant principles, and too many teachers to count." She says with a smile. Damn, that's a lot.

" A very big school requires a very big staff."

She stops and opens the door to one of the many offices. I step inside , slightly bigger than the average office, but pretty clean and well kept. She opens a file cabinet and looks around, pulling out one that's marked with pink tape. I see at least 6 other pink tape files. Probably for new kids.

" Raven?" She asks.

" Yes." I say. she hands me a paper with 7 different classes on them. The bell rings.

" Um, is there any way you can take me to my first class?" I ask.

" I can't, but my student aid will." Just then, a tall, blonde girl steps inside, a smile on her practically flawless face.

" Alexia! Just on time, can you lead to her first period class?"

" Sure." She says.

" Thank you, Ms.-"

" Brent" She says. I nod and begin to follow Alexia out the door.

"Raven! I almost forgot!" I turn around and hands me a huge map of the school.

" Welcome to Jouster Country." She says . I thank her once more and walk out.

" Jouster Country?" I ask Alexia.

" Our stupid Mascot" She responds.

" Let me see your schedule." she says, I hand it over.

" You have some nice teachers, just don't get on 's bad side. I made that mistake my freshman year and the bitch practically made my time in her class a living hell."

" Thanks." I say with a smile.

Maybe this school isn't that bad after all.


	4. The Attack

**Nikki Miller**

**15**

**Sophmore**

" Can I go to the bathroom?" I ask during the break gave us after finishing his lesson early.

" Yes?" He answers in his usual gruff voice.

" Can I go to the bathroom?"

" Sure," He reaches into his desk and hands me the bathroom pass.

" What happened to you're eye?" He asks.

" Oh,- um- I fell." I lie.

"… okay, then" He senses the lie, but decides against saying more and I practically bolt out of there.

I make my way towards the nearest bathroom and make sure to lock the door. I pull out and apply more makeup to my battered left eye. It feels awkward being alone in the bathroom, but it's better that no one sees me like this.

Putting the eye-shadow back in my pocket, I unlock the door and make my way back to class.

" where do think you're going, baby?"

My blood runs cold.

" Aren't you supposed to be in class, Alec?"

" Nope, thought I might skip, you know how bitchy Ms. Reynolds can be…"

" Fuck off, Alec" I say

" Oh, baby, what did I do?

"You know exactly what you did"

" Oh, I see how it is then, can you please explain?"

" You fucking-" I'm slammed against the lockers

" Now you listen you goddamn bitch," He says grabbing a hold of my hair, forcing me to look into his eyes.

" I don't care what that whore Courtney told you, but listen to me ," He tightens his grip on my hair and I yelp out in pain. Where the hell are the teachers when you need them?

" I- I love you, I fucking love you _so much." _he lets go of my hair and I crumble to the ground.

" I-" He cuts me off.

" Don't say a word. I love you Nikki, but if you think that I'm gonna let you run your mouth on me then you're wrong."

" I'm leaving now, you've crossed the line and-"

" You want to leave? Huh? Go ahead leave, but If you think for one moment that I'm going to let you go that easily, then you're wrong. I've worked too hard for you to-" our argument is cut off by the a voice in the intercom, I recognize it to be the principals.

" Students, w-we are in a code red. Teachers, do not let students out of class. This is not a drill, it is a hostage situation. I urge everyone to remain calm, this- um- disagreement will be settled soon." Her voice is ice cold, and pure fear emanates from it.

" Will teachers please look outside and gather all students out in the halls, you h-have ten minutes before…" Her voice is cut off and a harsh male voice comes on.

" You have ten minutes before our guards will roam the halls" his voice is thickly accented.

An old man peeks his head out of a classroom door, he gestures for us to enter his class. Posters of countries and different kings and pharaohs litter the walls, probably World History. I look at the shocked faces of the people in the class, they range from confused to utterly terrified.

" Anyone who is found will suffer this fate" We hear a click.

"No! please don't do this, I-I. AAAAAAAAA-" the principals voice is cut off by a loud boom.

A gun shot.

" That is all for now."

An eerie silence follows, even Alec shows a look of utter fear and confusion. and for what seems like hours, no one says a word.

Everyone looks at each other, the teacher seems to be in deep thought, a boy seems to be praying, and a girl in the far corner is silently crying to herself.

She is the one to break the silence.

" Is- is she dead?"

No one answers the question.

What the hell is happening?

**Jacqueline "Jake" Huntington**

**35 Years old **

**Police Officer**

I sit in my office, filling out an arrest report.

Some retarded tourist by the name of Andrew Ramire got so drunk, he thought it would be funny for him to pull down a woman's bikini top on South Beach. He was so wasted that when I was arresting him he thought I was stripper and tried to put dollar bills inside my shirt. He's looking at a good 3 months in jail now.

" Jake" I look up and see my boss staring down at me with inquisitive eyes.

" Yeah?"

" Pack your bags you're headed for Mapleton in an hour." He says coolly

" Mapleton! That's a good three hours away, why the hell are they calling Miami?"

" Haven't you heard?" He put up the volume to the TV, which I have been casually ignoring for the past few hours.

A reporter is frantically speaking into her microphone. She is behind what seems to be a high school.

" Hello, Sarah Hendricks, here with CNN, live at the scene of Leonard High School in Mapleton. Authorities aren't speaking with us, but sources are telling us that Officers from Miami to even as far as Atlanta, Georgia are being called to scene. Local schools are being evacuated. People are saying that it is a hostage situation, but Local authorities and the FBI aren't co-operating with us." She pauses for a moment, listening into an earpiece.

" Okay, I have breaking news, it is confirmed that there is a hostage situation inside of the school, it is believed to be a terrorist group. Um-" She pauses again.

" We- we are going to have to take a small break, but I will be back. Sarah Hendricks, CNN News"

My boss shuts off the TV.

" What the hell is happening over there?" I ask.

" I honestly don't know, but it has be big for them to request half of us there."

There is a long silence.

" What time do I have to be here?" I ask.

" No later than 5:20." He says.

" I'll be there."

And with that I make my way home, not knowing what lies ahead.


	5. The Call

**Okay, I know what you guys are thinking, What the Hell! I'm sorry to say that I am one lazy human being, therefore I kind of forgot about this story sometime between cramming for mid-terms, and doing winter vacation homework. So in order to help with finishing this story, I called up upon a good friend on this site, David Noklevername, you may or may not have read his awesome Hunger Games Parody, if you haven't I highly recommend you do so to get to know his writing style, because I am happy to say that we will be co-authoring this story. What is it you say, nothing happened on 2012 so the story won't be as exiting? Too bad, now I'm here to finish what I started, so with out further ado…**

**Note from David Noklevername: Sooooo, I've taken up co-writing this story, 'The Game'. Be patient with me, these may not be up to par with the last few chapters!PS, sorry to all the people that have submitted! Not everyone will be getting an introduction before the interview, and maybe even until the Games!**

**Hansel Reiders**

**16**

**Sophmore**

**Written by David Noklevername**

NOTE: I do not speak German, despite my German ancestry. SO, I had to use Google Translate. Sorry for the sucky German!

Oh god, another day, five days in this odd country and I still don't understand a word they say. Why did nobody teach me English before bringing me here? The 'student exchange program'… I didn't even sign up for it! My Father thought it would be a 'good time to learn about other cultures'… I can barely learn anything! I cannot even make a friend.

Well, you can always try…

I walked up to a young woman in pottery class. 'George', I think? I don't know, sometime between that lady getting a firecracker thrown at her and the weird guy talking about punishing American scum I must have forgotten her name.

She seems nice, I've seen her with some other girls. Then again, they do look like the poor streetwalkers back in Germany…

Whatever, might as well try to make friends!

I tapped her on the shoulder,

"Miss," I say, pointing to myself,

"Name is Hansel!"

The Girl glares at me, "Where's Gretel?"

"Gretel?" I thought for a moment. This is a joke, yes, though, getting offended by it will never help me make friends. I paused, and thought for a moment. What do I say?

"Gretel is ze name of my sister!"… I am an idiot.

George glared yet again, "Whatever. Go 'Heil Hitler' or whatever the fuck you do in Germany over there…"

I sighed. What is with these people and their German stereotypes? First the stupid football player ( WHY is it called football if they do everything with their hands?!) asking about brewing beer, and now this? This has gotten ridiculous,

"Rassistiche bitch…" I muttered, while walking back to my desk.

She turned to me, "Ex-fucking-cuse me, you little German fuck?!"

"Beruhigen, George." I replied. This has not been a good day for Hansel Reinders. Though, it probably can't get any worse, can it?

Oh god, I've just cursed myself, haven't I?

**Angel Ching**

**18**

**Senior**

**Written by Charlieal12**

The tension in Mr. Rene's class is unbearable. For the past 45 minutes, we have all been seated in silence waiting for the terrorists to say something, anything.

_Why now?_ I ask myself, why couldn't this be tomorrow? I have, or at least had a doctors appointment tomorrow. I can't help but let my mind wander into paranoia:

_What are they doing? My god, what if they have bombs and blow up the whole school? No, what if they go Virginia Tech on us and shoot us all down! NO, if any of those fuckers wants to mess with me I'll- I'll, damn it! I can't do anything!_

Suddenly, the intercom goes back on again. At first there's just a crackling noise of static, then a voice speaks. It's not the same man as last time, this one has a deeper voice.

" Hello student! we congratulate those of you out in the halls who made it to a nearby classroom, three of you weren't so lucky. We took good care of them. I bet you are all asking why we are doing this, don't worry all will be told in due time. For now, though, we would like you all to remain calm. Very soon we will be calling students and faculty by grade to come to the gymnasium for a small meeting. We have all attendance records so we will know if you are just too scared to come. We won't hunt you down, but instead, we will make sure one of your beloved Administrators bites the bullet, right ? You all know , guidance counselor for freshmen, last names A-C?"

Theres a ripping sound, followed by rapid breathing. A man's voice starts to cry for mercy.

" There, there , nothing will happen if everyone follows commands. I _do_ hope you all follow commands."

The intercom goes dead again.

Jenny Wren breaks into tears, and slowly we all begin to weep. Police sirens can be heard in the distance, but odds are they feel as helpless as we do.

After a few minutes, everything is back to the awkward silence from before.

Five minutes later, a man, garbed in black and holding a large gun, barges into the room.

"Grade 12?" he asks in a thickly accented voice.

It takes some time for us to understand what he means, but eventually the whole Pre-Calculus class, teacher included, begins their solemn walk to the gym.

All I can hope is that they don't kill us.


End file.
